John stretched out on his worn leather couch, one arm resting over his forehead as he stared at the ceiling.

The dim light of the TV cast flickering blue shadows across the room, blending with the glow from the floor lamp in the corner.

A sitcom played softly in the background, but he wasn't paying attention. His living room was simple in a rugged way and it had enough space to roam towards his kitchen and the hallway to his office, bathroom, and his bedroom.

He does have an extra bedroom—for guests only. The deep brown walls were lined with few framed photos, each one capturing moments of unspoken stories—his unit, their hardened expressions saying more than words ever could.

Added with the scarred coffee table across from him held a couple of half-empty beer cans and a mug from earlier in the day.

To his right, the space opened into a tiny kitchen, just big enough for two people to move around without bumping into each other. Dark wooden cabinets, framed stone countertops, and a stove placed beside a small sink.

The fridge hummed quietly, blending into the low chatter of the TV. The kitchen wasn't meant for staying over coffee or shared breakfasts; it was a place for quick meals.

The glass doors to the small balcony were slightly open, letting in a cool breeze. A couple of chairs and a table was placed outside, and the city light below twinkled like scattered stars, mixing with the faint sounds of cars and voices drifting up from the street.

As the leather creaked when John shifted, his eyes skimmed the room before drifting back to the TV, though his mind was wrapped around Charlie.

Her brown eyes—warm and curious—it made him forget everything around him.

And then there was her hair. Golden waves framed her face perfectly, soft and inviting. He could see how it fell over her shoulders and caught the light when she tilted her head and laughed.

He'd found himself wanting to touch it more times than he could count, the urge so strong it surprised him. But what drove him crazy were her lips.

Full and soft, the way they curved into a smile that made his chest tighten.

It was ridiculous how much he thought about them.

How they made him want to forget the wait and kiss her right then and there.

He wanted to bury those sinful thoughts behind his stoic mask he wore often. But when he was alone, he let the want rise a little more.

Just imagining her here. Her bubbly personality, her laughter filling the room, made the silence feel less like a hideout and more like home. Sitting up, he ran a hand through his hair, trying to shake the thought of her out of his mind.

Would making a move scare her off? The question sat in his chest, pressing down hard. No. I better not. Stay sharp.

The buzz of his phone jolted him back to reality. He picked it up and read the message.

Charlie: I'll hold you to that, Mr. Mystery.

He reread the text he'd sent a few minutes ago, feeling that tug in his chest of her response. His fingers moved as he typed out a quick reply.

John: Careful Charlie. I'm counting on it.

He hit send and leaned back, stretching his legs as he waited, he notices something small but strange.

Charlie: When am I seeing you again?

He grinned, already thinking ahead as he typed.

John: When's your next free day?

Charlie: I have classes during the week and work after but I am free on Friday and the weekends.

John: What do you say we take a hike out in the woods? I promise not to kidnap you.

Charlie: You make it sound like you would 😅 Are you sure I can trust you?

John: We'll have to find out, won't we?

Charlie: Fair deal. Btw, I did a research on your 'special ops' and I have questions.

John stared at the message for a second, something tugging at the edge of his thoughts.

She wrote did a research instead of did some research or looked into.

It wasn't a big deal. But he'd noticed small quirks in how she texted.

Typos. Short replies. Sometimes she hesitated between messages when they were going back and forth.

It wasn't like her to be unsure—she was nosy, curious, always ready with a million questions. But when she texted, it was different.

He let it go—for now.

John: I had a feeling you'd dig into it. Be ready. I'll pick you up at eleven, Friday in the woods.

He put his phone down, but the thought remained on his mind.

Charlie was sharp—he'd seen it in her eyes, in the way she picked apart his words, always questioning, always trying to understand the world around her.

So why did it feel like she hesitated when she texted?

He filed the thought away. If he was right, he'd figure it out.

Another buzz rattled against his palm.

This time, it wasn't Charlie.

It was Cam.

Cam: Are you kidding me?

John squinted at the message before sighing. He could already tell where this was going.

John: What?

The typing bubbles popped up immediately.

Cam: Are you seriously dating?

John blinked at the screen. He ran a hand down his face, exhaling through his nose.

John: Not this again.

Cam: Yes, THIS AGAIN. I just found out from Johnny that you're talking to someone from SparkMatch.

His jaw clenched.

John: I wouldn't call it dating.

Cam: Then what would you call it, Dad? A tactical interrogation?

John huffed a short laugh. He could already hear the sarcasm in her voice.

John: Just talking.

Cam: "Just talking" like friends? Or "just talking" like you're seeing where it goes?

John: That's none of your business, Cameron.

Cam: Are you even taking this seriously?

John: Did Johnny tell you to say this?

Cam: Oh, don't you dare put this on Johnny! I AM the one concerned because you didn't even tell me!

John sighed deeply, shifting on the couch. He wasn't in the mood for this conversation over text. His phone rang but he wouldn't answer until his phone buzzed again with another text.

Cam: Pick up the damn phone, old man.

He groaned, hesitating for just a second before answering the second call.

"Alright, alright," he muttered as soon as the call connected. "I'm here. Get it out."

"Seriously, Dad?" Cam's voice rang through the speaker, sharp with exasperation. "I had to hear from Johnny, of all people, that my father is suddenly seeing someone?"

John pinched the bridge of his nose. "First off, I'm not seeing anyone. Secondly, it's none of Johnny's bloody business, nor is it yours."

"Not seeing anyone?" Cam scoffed. "So what, you're just entertaining someone for the fun of it?"

John pressed his lips into a thin line. He knew that tone. The disappointed daughter tone.

"I didn't plan for this, Cam. It just happened."

Cam went quiet for a beat. Then, cautiously, she asked, "Do you even know how old she is?"

John tensed slightly. He hadn't actually asked Charlie's age. He knew she was young, but he didn't push for specifics. And, honestly? He wasn't sure he wanted to know... but he does wanted to know.

"I haven't asked," he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Oh my God, Dad," Cam groaned. "What if she's, like, twenty? What if she's younger than me?"

John sat up straighter, his expression hardening. "Cam, come on."

"Well, you don't even know—"

"I highly doubt she's younger than you," he interrupted firmly. "She's in college and works on week days. She's not some clueless kid."

Cam let out an exasperated sigh, but she didn't argue. Not immediately.

John softened slightly. "Look... I get why you're worried. I do. But I'm not rushing into anything. We're just talking. That's it."

Cam was quiet for a long moment. Then, finally, she muttered, "Do you even like her?"

His stomach twisted at the question.

Because, fuck, he did.

More than he cared to admit.

But Cam didn't need to know that.

"I don't know yet," he lied. "I'm just seeing where it goes."

Cam sighed. "I still think this is a bad idea."

He scoffed in return. "Noted."

There was a long silence before Cam finally said, "I'm serious. If you end up marrying someone younger than me, I'm disowning you."

"If I do, I'll make sure to invite you to the wedding as an order," John said, grinning almost.

"Not funny, Dad."

There was a hint of reluctant in her voice now, the tension easing a little.

John exhaled, scratching his beard with his hand. "Look. I appreciate your concern. Really. But let me handle this, alright?"

Cam was quiet for a moment. Then she sighed. "You better not be planning to take this girl out shooting for a first date."

John smirked. "Hiking. Third date."

Cam snorted. "Yeah, okay, Captain Romance."

John shook his head with a low chuckle. "Go get some sleep, kid."

"Yeah, yeah. I don't wanna know what you'll do on your date. Love you, Dad."

"...Love you too, Cami."

As the call ended, John let out a slow breath, tossing his phone onto the coffee table. That had gone better than expected. Even so, he couldn't shake the strange feeling settling in his chest. Because for all the times he'd told himself he was taking it easy, the truth was he was already in deep. Until his eyes snapped wide when it crossed his mind.

Rusty.

"Shit." John sit up quick and got off and grabbed his keys on his way out to the front door.

As he locked the door behind him, it was later than he'd realized, and he almost forgot about checking on the neighbor's dog.